


Of Countdowns and Comrades

by SabbyStarlight



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bromance, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 10:35:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyStarlight/pseuds/SabbyStarlight
Summary: A super long AN and a short little fic from one very heartbroken MacGyver fan.





	Of Countdowns and Comrades

**Author's Note:**

> It’s a really sad day to be a MacGyver fan. If you don’t know what’s going on, go Google and then come back here, I’m not going to be the one to break it to you. If you do know, you’re probably like me and absolutely devastated. I knew it was coming, as some of you know, and some of you even shared my fears, but hearing that it’s official… It still hit me insanely hard. And now I’m left in a really weird place because I love this show. I love the cast, I love the story, I love the characters (mostly), and I adore this fandom. I have been a part of so many over the years and this has been by far the kindest, most supportive, welcoming, and just downright fun group of fans I have ever found. I don’t want to leave it. This place, and these boys, have gotten me back to writing again, after years away. But I don’t know what to do, because filling in the blanks the show was left with after a few episodes without Jack was one thing, I didn’t like it, but I could deal with that. I don’t know if I can keep watching once that’s a permanent change. And that breaks my heart. 
> 
> But, for now, we still have a few episodes left until his character is written out of the show (just typing those words makes me sick), and I have a feeling that how the writers handle that will be my deciding factor for if I can keep watching or not. I would like to think that we can all just pretend that this isn’t happening. That we can keep on loving and writing (and let’s be honest here, whumping the heck out of, cause that’s what we all seem to do best) these guys like nothing has happened. That’s what I’m going to try to do, I think, and I would love for all the other amazing Mac and Jack fans and writers out there to stick with me. For now, at least, and probably for the remainder of what I write for this series (and I have every intention to keep writing, even if I stop watching the actual show), my fics will be set, unless specifically stated, in the happy little world I keep in my mind where my favorite show isn’t crumbling to pieces around me. 
> 
> Anyway, I mainly just wanted to post this AN to share how devastated I am and how much I, however futilely, hope that no matter how the show changes, what we as writers and fans have created here doesn’t end. But I couldn’t post this note without a fic attached, and while I have half a mind to get out all my emotions and write a full-blown, heartwrenching, tragic, deathfic (because I’m terrified of how they are going to end his character and I kinda want to take matters into my own hands) I don’t have it in me right now. I’m too upset already without piling that on top. This is just a short little thing, it actually spawned from a writing class assignment which was a short story in an unconventional format, focusing on actions and surroundings instead of describing your characters to tell the story. I wasn’t going to post it on here but I didn’t have anything else ready to post and I needed to share my feelings about the news.

Five

He heard the click, the dreadful metallic, all too familiar, sound as the bomb was activated. Cringing, he quickly glanced away from the cover panel he had been removing, looking towards the countdown screen that seconds ago had been blank, unactivated and unintimidating. Five minutes, slowly counting downward glared back at him in unflinchingly neon green. “There must have been a trip wire… I pulled the cover off too quick.” He muttered to himself, quickly shaking his head as if to erase the thought. How the timer had been activated didn’t matter now. It was done. Stopping the bomb was his only priority. 

Four 

Four loud pops rang out through the air from outside the building, echoing back to him twice as loud through the tiny earpiece he was wearing, keeping him connected. Sounds that a younger man, though technically he was still a young man himself, might have mistaken for fireworks. Pop, pop, pop, pop. In rapid succession. Four shots and then silence. He paused for a second, waiting, listening, readying, just in case. It was unnecessary though, because like always, just a breath later a voice came across the private line in his ear. “All clear, bud. They’re taken care of. Do your thing.” 

Three

Three colors of wires formed a twisted, tangled, ball of confusion, nestled among the innards of the bomb. There was no rhyme or reason to how they were arranged, random loops and knots doubled back and wrapped around, forming a near perfect sphere the size of his fist. Reds and white and blues mingled together, a perverted take on patriotism’s colors. He found himself wondering if it’s design was intentional. “Not gonna matter if it was on purpose or not.” His partner’s voice interrupted. Apparently, he had been speaking out loud and hadn’t even noticed. “A bomb’s a bomb. Red, white, and blue or not it’ll kill you no matter how pretty the colors are. Disarm it and get the hell outta dodge.” A quick glance at the timer left him scrambling, time seemed to be moving a lot faster than he was at the moment. “You got this.” And with those words to focus him, he went back to work. 

Two

An entire precious minute had steadily ticked by when the door to the abandoned building he was crouched in burst open and a pair of boots quickly jogged their way closer to him and the bomb. He didn’t bother to look up though. Not only did he not have the time to waste, but he knew the sound of his partner’s bootsteps just as well as he did his own. “You need to get out of here.” He said, eyes still deciphering the maze of wires as he spoke. “Even if we find cover in here, if this thing blows… Well, let’s just say it won’t end well.” Despite his words, two boots, tan and dusty, with haphazardously tied laces, parked themselves just in the corner of his peripheral vision. “You know the rule, kid. You go kaboom, I go kaboom.” 

One

One chance. That was all he was given. He had one chance to cut the correct wire, just one of many in his hands. If he chose wrong he (along with his partner and who knows how many harmless citizens) wouldn’t be around to take another guess. “I’m not tryin’ to pressure you, or anything pal, but that clock’s just got seconds on it now. Whatever you’re gonna do, do it now.” He sighed, quickly making a decision without giving himself time to second guess it, and positioned the blades of his SAK’s scissors around the chosen wire. He closed his eyes as the blades closed, preparing for the worst case scenario. Instead, he was met with only silence. Blue eyes snapped open, quickly finding the timer, frozen with less than one minute left, and his partner, smiling confidently down at him as if he hadn’t had a doubt in the world that he would succeed. The one man crazy enough to stay by his side, no matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> So rereading this in the midst of this news really hurt my heart. I’d love to know what y’all thought. Or if anyone else just needs to rant or cry, I’m here to rant and cry right along with you.


End file.
